Forgotten
by HessianDamian
Summary: Wesker is betrayed by the one he loves. His mind plummets into memories he thought he buried...


_I'm gonna make you bend and break_

_(It sent you to me without wings)_

_Say a prayer but let the good times roll_

_In case God doesn't show_

_(Let the good times roll, let the good times roll)_

Wesker stared at the picture in his hand, wishing that the figure in it was as dead as he felt. The image slipped from his mind, lost and far away. Somewhere in the vastness of his knowledge he seemed to have sealed the offending thing away…A memory. He didn't want to give himself this false sense of security that blocking such things caused, Wesker didn't run from anything, least of all a stray bit of history that had embedded itself in his mind.

Still, he wasn't too keen on remembering this particular thing…The figure in the picture was standing over him in a rainy parking lot. His azure eyes glowed in the gloomy light and Wesker's orbs were locked on them. The man half-smiled, his hands in his pockets, and rain poured off the back of his wide-brimmed cowboy hat.

_And I want these words to make things right_

_But it's the wrongs that make the words come to life_

_"Who does he think he is?"_

_If that's the worst you got_

_Better put your fingers back to the keys_

Wesker wished that glimmer of a smile would go away, his eyes narrowing, and breath coming out as a hiss. He'd torn his office apart, angry at anything and everything. No one had the right to leave him. He was Albert Wesker, the builder of a great utopia, and yet this fool didn't realize that. It only made him want him more.

_One night and one more time_

_Thanks for the memories_

_Even though they weren't so great_

_"He tastes like you only sweeter"_

_One night, yeah, and one more time_

_Thanks for the memories, thanks for the memories_

_"He, he tastes like you only sweeter"_

He shuddered, touching his lips with the leather of his fingers. His eyes slowly slid shut – lacking the usual veil of dark – crimson lost to the world as he imagined the other. Dark skin and hair, with those bright blue orbs, yes…That was his. That was what he wanted, what he needed. Taking a deep breath he bit on the black material that covered his hand. "Goddamn you…"

_Been looking forward to the future_

_But my eyesight is going bad_

_And this crystal ball_

_It's always cloudy except for (except for)_

_When you look into the past (look into the past)_

_One night stand (one night stand off)_

Wesker growled, staring at the face of his everything…out the window to the glimmering metropolis that he'd used his life up on. He'd wasted his whole life building this place, becoming a god. But what was the point of ruling a vast world of perfection…if you were always alone? He hissed, digging his nails into the skin of his face – having removed his gloves – and cursed the day he'd ever met him. He should have studied him, torn the azure eyed bastard limb from limb and fed him to a creation afterwards.

_Left, betrayed, alone, abandoned…for him._

_One night and one more time_

_Thanks for the memories_

_Even though they weren't so great_

_"He tastes like you only sweeter"_

_One night, yeah, and one more time_

_Thanks for the memories, thanks for the memories_

_"He, he tastes like you only sweeter"_

They'd fought the night before, the savageness of the battle escalating from words to fists and kicks. Wesker had taken the pleasure of scoring his face like a side of meat before raking his claws across his ribs, and then digging his teeth into the skin of his chest. Why…how could you do this…to me? He viciously swore, sending a stack of books to the floor in his flurry of rage. Nothing could taste as bitter as the betrayal on his tongue.

_They say I only think in the form of crunching numbers_

_In hotel rooms collecting page six lovers_

_Get me out of my mind and get you out of those clothes_

_I'm a liner away from getting you into the mood, whoa._

Wesker remembered the first time he had ever touched him…his hair was soft, sliding through his fingers like silk. It was one of his favorite features of his Indian, the dark mane reaching his mid back. Those blue eyes turned to him, and a smirk played across those scarred features.

"You need something Blondie?" The deep voice asked and Wesker could only stare into those eyes. The taller man let out a small chuckle, catching the blonde's lips in a searing kiss. He hated the fact that it took so little for the older man to set him off…And leave him breathless.

_One night and one more time_

_Thanks for the memories_

_Even though they weren't so great_

_"He tastes like you only sweeter"_

_One night, yeah, and one more time_

_Thanks for the memories, thanks for the memories_

_"He, he tastes like you only sweeter"_

The night before he left was different…the words that slipped from Wesker's mouth felt heavy, as he turned around to find him standing right on top of him. He blinked, taken aback by the sudden closeness, quickly recovering by narrowing his eyes. "Is there something wrong, Sensou?" His eyes focused on the Indian's face, seeing no real expression there as an avenue to tell what the other was thinking.

_"No…nothing."_

_One night and one more time (One more night, one more time)_

_Thanks for the memories_

_Even though they weren't so great_

_"He tastes like you only sweeter"_

_One night, yeah, and one more time (One more night, one more time)_

_Thanks for the memories, thanks for the memories_

_"He, he tastes like you only sweeter"_

No memory of the dark-skinned man was sacred, or treasured. As far as Wesker was concerned, every shred of his existence could be burned from his memory and he would celebrate. Unfortunately, forgetting would involve losing what little sanity he had clung to since Sensou had left. All he could think of were pools of cobalt, their blackness and care. "I made you…"

Wesker's face was in his hands, teeth grit, and hunched over in his chair. "I love you…" He echoed the words that were spoken so softly to him by the Indian, while he held him in the darkness of their last night together. He wondered why he'd been so gentle, so patient with him…He'd been left…for a copy of himself.

Wesker swore to himself… "I will kill you…Alexander."

S-a-S-a-S-a-S-a

This was…sad to write. It was written after listening to the song: Thanks for the Memories, by Fall Out Boy. Any comments would be lovely at this point. ~Hessian


End file.
